In the Shade of the Brecilian
by Historically Fictional
Summary: In it's death thralls from the stresses of the Warp, a troop transport emerges from a Warp Storm over Thedas. The 82nd Lyran makes Planetfall in the Brecilian forest. Chaos ensues.
1. Prologue

_- Vox active. Hail, Inquisitor._

_- Hello, Servitor. Access Case File 2213_

_- Of course. *Servos whir and paper is shifted over the Vox*_

_- I'm waiting, Servitor_

_- Case File 2213 is as follows:_

_82nd Lyra Light Foot, presumed MIA in the crusade by Lord Solar Macharius. Warp Storm possibly the cause. Total effectives numbered at approx. 300 soldiers, with approximately fifty dedicated to heavy weapons, fifty to Stormtrooper and Sniping disciplines, ten were enrolled in the commander's Retinue. The remaining 190 were regular infantrymen in 10 man squads._

_- Do you have a more specific query?_

_- What is known of their commanding officer?_

_ - Colonel Julius Rawlsing, Commander of the 82nd, was known for his almost heretical beliefs. Be it treating the Xeno respectably, as if a rival in a board game, or disagreeing with the official imperial policy of exterminating Psykers. He was blacklisted for Inqusition inquiry upon his return. Rumors speculate he intentionally forced his ship to be sucked into the warp storm._

* * *

"Colonel, I cannot allow you to-" _CRACK!_The entire room went silent. The Captain dropped dead. "More bodies will drop if we don't go into that storm!" Shouted Colonel Rawlsing, pointing his pistol about. The Helmsman pushed his controls to the right, bringing the vessel on course. Messages began to stream in via Vox, and one of the Colonel's men put a blast into it.

"This is Heresy!" Shouted a man from one of the control panels. Rawlsing approached him with a hastned walk and slapped him in the face. "You know nothing of Heresy!" Responded the Colonel.

* * *

_- Interesting. __That will be all, Servitor_

_- Of course, Vox offline._

* * *

As it was the most popular at the time, and I was in a writing mood, I started the Imperial Guard Crossover. I haven't read the Gaunt's Ghosts book, so I can't do them justice. However, I can do the Imperial Guard themselves justice quite well.

As always, R/R.


	2. Landfall

_Orbit of Thedas_

The Troop Transport _Eye of Twilight_ rocked out of the Warp Storm, battered and leaking various things. Her hull had scoring from many low-orbit insertions during pitched battles, and now she was broken by the very men that put their faith into her captain. Lacking engine power from a short failure of the Geller Field, the ship dropped into a decaying orbit over a habitable planet in the system. Colonel Rawlsing barked orders from a railing, overlooking his troop bay on the extremely small transport. Arvus Lighters and Aquila landers made up the landing force, with a massive forest on the southern continent as a landing zone. Hab Modules and other gear were piled into containers and landed by Valkyrie Sky Talons.

The Executive Officer of the _Twilight _approached the Colonel and his adjutants, unarmed. "You'll never get away with this, Colonel. The Imperium will find you one day." He says. "Your paranoia shall be your undoing."

"Leave, Naval fool. I have a new world to discover with the remaining men of a destroyed world. The Emperor protected us to reach this place, and I intend to not shirk my duty to him." Said the Colonel, motioning to his men.

"So be it." Said the Officer, moving to the door and exiting. Roaring engines made his ears go numb. Soldiers on the deck put on their Rucksacks, Cloaks, and other equipment. The Colonel looked his equipment over. Only 36, he was incredibly young for his rank. He unsheathed his blade, testing it's function with a flick of the power switch. Light cackled along it's frame, and Rawlsing took a few swings for added measure. Powering it down, he returned it to it's sheathe. He glanced at the pocket he kept the source of his _'Heresy'_ in, and took out the dusty, cracked scroll. Unraveling it, he looked the tome over.

"_It is so decreed by the Emperor on this year of M30, that all men of Walkrie shall no longer believe in him as a god, so decreed by the Imperial Truth. The Emperor is a great man, this is true, but it is his will that it not be so. If this writ is not answered, exterminatus may be considered._

_Sanguinus."_

While a heathen could've easily written that information, the fact that the planet was a hellhole, with massive impact craters the size of a continent, he was convinced. He rolled up the tome. Whilst his other views of the enemy were not necessarily in-keeping with the Emperor's old teachings, he believed in his heart that the Emperor would have exterminated every Xeno came across. The Ecclesiarchy would kill him for believing, and so he steered the ship into the heart of the Warp, praying to the Emperor – asking for guidance and truth.

And so, he was spit out into orbit of a perfectly habitable planet. He truly looked favorably on the Colonel. Julius tightened his boots, and tugged on his rucksack. No man could be off the line in the days ahead. He slid on a knitted cap, lit a smoke, and marched down the stairway towards his Arvus Lighter. Sitting next to his Second-in-Command, the Colonel steeled himself for the worst.

_The Brecilian Forest, Dusk_

Julius awoke, men around him dead in their seats. Two large holes punctured the cockpit and forward section of the compartment. Smoke vented from the engines outside the hole. Rawlsing shook the Major, who groggily came-to. Snapping off their belts, Julius bashed the aft gate open, whilst Major Tuvius grabbed the Radioman's Vox and Lasrifle. The Colonel pulled out his Las Carbine, checking the exterior. Forest, as he suspected. "This is Command Squad to all 82nd Elements. Report!" Shouted the Major, trying to get communications. A warbling came from the set as he received a message. "Sir, the majority of our forces made it intact. A pair of Navy thunderbolts strafed the landing vehicles. Most are or will be trashed by them within the next hour. Camp has been set up by Captain Dolin with fields of fire by our heavy bolters and Mortar Pits. Search parties will come for us at dawn."

"Right. Get everything we can from that transport and clear out. Ammo, Weapons, and Food." I said, moving inside with him. I slung a trio of rifles over my shoulders, and grabbed a pair of Medkits, snapping them to my belt. I grabbed one of the emergency axes from the side racks, and tossed it outside. I stuffed every magazine I could find into a side bundle, and ran outside. Tuvius was similarly bulked up, carrying everything he could muster. We marched a good quarter-mile, and pitched three tents. Mine, his, and one for the gear. The first night reminded me of home, and it's destruction at the hands of Chaos. Or how the Commissar died. Bastard got a Eldar knife right in the neck during his turn sleeping. I never lived it down, and barely slept.

–

It was morning, and light crept through the tent's crack. Julius groggily exited, smelling a fire. Four men sat outside his tent, taking watch. Each bore a knitted cap like Rawlsing's own, with _82_ stitched poorly into the front. Their Sergeant, bearing a rough beard like my own, snapped a salute from his crouch. The Colonel dropped down into a similar crouch, and returned it. "Something we're hiding from, Sergeant?" Julius asked, looking about.

"Aye, sir. Wolf-things been yelling all night." Said the Sergeant. "We were six strong, damned things dragged off five men last night." He said. "Corporal Tellins here claims they match the legend of beastmen, with fur all over and menacing teeth."

"Have you spoken to Tuvius, or is he still sleeping?" The Colonel asked, looking at his tent.

"Sir? I never saw him. I doubt we needed a friendly fire." Said the Sergeant. Julius walked slowly to the tent, his heart beating. He looked in. There was a patch of blood, and the sleeping bag was torn and moved about.

"Sergeant. Have your men collect the equipment in that tent, and break down this one. We're in trouble." The Colonel said, his voice grim. A shrill howl came from off in the forest. Cracks resounded in the air. "Throne of Terra!" Shouted one of the Guardsmen. He dropped a magazine. The Sergeant gave him a stern look. Rawlsing checked his Carbine, a full ammo count and all parts seeming to be working. He and the Sergeant turned as a twig cracked. A grey blur flashed past them, scratching Julius' Carpace. He raised his rifle and held the trigger. A crack and a flash, and a grey wolf-like creature collapsed, head missing. "Defensive positions!" Shouted the Colonel, scanning his environment. He heard a roar. Three men with almost chaos-deformed faces holding swords charged them. The soldiers let off blasts, dropping each hostile in succession.

"Get the Gear together, now. We need to ditch this position at once." Said the Sergeant.

"I didn't know you made the choices around here, Sergeant, but I agree with your advice." Said Rawlsing, slinging his carbine in favor of a Pistol-Sword layout. A fresh crackling met his ears as his power sword turned on. More cracks and the booms of bolter fire met his ears as roars rang through the forest. A pair of grey beasts phased from the underbrush, plowing straight for the colonel. He shot one, spinning and catching the other with a blade into the ribcage. It bellowed in pain and went limp.

"Gentlemen, we have all day!" Shouted the Colonel, sarcastically, as he worked the blade out of the monster. "We're ready, Colonel." Said the Sergeant.

"Move out, Tactical Triangle. You have point, Sergeant." Said the Colonel. The group moved slowly but surely through the underbrush of the forest, in the direction of lasfire and smoke from fires. The Sergeant threw up a freeze command as they neared. "By the Emperor!" Shouted the Sergeant.

"It shall be so!" Responded a watchman, peering over his sandbag entrenchment. As the squad approached, The Colonel realised the full magnitude of the shooting earlier. Ten wounded men were laid out, being tended to with medical kits. The same Beastmen killed earlier were impaled in stake pits, shot dead, or immolated husks upon the field. I stepped over the barrier to a few cheers. The Captain greeted me, and we walked to the Command Tent.

As I walked through the camp, I noted the food and ammo pits' statuses. Rather good for the supply run not coming. I lifted the flap and entered the tent. A man with a few extra appendages waved at me with one of them, motors whirring. Another, his usually hunched frame surprisingly upright. Lastly, a man with a chainsword and a book on his belt gave me a nod, my command squad. Lavernius, the Priest. Welkrieg, the Enginseer, and Peltast, the Psyker, who looked better than he ever had. He spoke first. "Colonel, it is... good, to see you. The Warp is strange, sire." He said, motioning to his lack of a stave. "It is clean, somehow, devoid of the dark gods and other things that would enjoy nothing more than to make me summon a demon in-camp. That said, I can still use my powers." He said, conjuring a small purple crackle from his hand.

"Understood. Lavernius? What are the men's spirits like?" Asked the Colonel. The Priest sighed. "The disappearance of both the Demons and Astronomicon makes me doubt the Imperium's light is even in existance, Julius. That said, our "Friend" could simply be acting like the re-"

"That's enough! I will not have you slandering him again." I shouted. The Priest recoiled. "Techpriest, how fare our equipment and munitions stores, and how long can we stay self-sufficient?" Julius asked.

"The Food we've brought, plus some ventures regarding the Beastmen, may keep us fed for over three to four months at current consumption. That is without trying to obtain more." He said.

"So, we've food, no Emperor, and no Warp. Supposedly, anyhow." Said the Colonel. "Spread out amongst the men, Priest, get their spirits up. Techpriest, work to find sources of food and water. Give me an ammunition report and ways to replace what we need."

The Colonel stepped outside, taking off his cap and jamming it in a pocket. He lit another smoke, and took a few drags, watching his men work. A new world, one with monsters, Imperials out to kill them, and limited, if currently acceptible, supplies. Julius Rawlsing, son of a Lord General and a maid, would live up to the nobler half of his reputation with any luck.

_If only he knew how truthful that belief was._

* * *

I apologize for the sinfully short introduction, and I promise to keep length much longer than that in the future.

Nuker: A Commissar would be the one to execute the Colonel for his leanings. So, he's conveniently corpsed prior to the storyline. The Chantry will be a major source of conflict in later chapters, Rawlsing is the kind of Idealist Liberal both they and the Inqusition would gladly ventilate the brain of.


	3. The Plot Thickens

_The Brecilians – Two Weeks after landfall_

Chirping birds met Vexilarius Meran's ears as he crept a long piece of steel up to his eye. Light hitting a small circle on it's top met a large series of mirrors, projecting an image into his eye. Two long-eared individuals pointing bows at a trio of scared-looking humans wearing what appeared to be Feudal clothing. Meran tapped the trigger guard expectantly, crosshairs bouncing over one of the assailants. Sergeant Wilux's form moved deftly behind a tree, making no noise even to the expert ears of the Dalish below. 12th Squad had been hunting this group for days to relay intelligence on them back to the Colonel. He was a weird sort after finding that scroll, and had nearly been tossed out of a meeting with the Captain a day prior to the insanity's beginning. But Meran didn't care about that. All he cared about was where several units of concentrated heat and light would go in the next few seconds. Wilux spun about, three other riflemen popping from the bushes.

"Let them go!" He shouted, raising his pistol. The two huntsmen deftly spun and let loose, their inexperience and anger showing as both cleanly missed. Meran shifted his rifle slightly. _Crack!_

Across from Meran, another _Crack!_ Resounded, each blast ripping a small, cauterized hole in the abhumans' legs. Both cried out in agony as the guardsmen moved in to capture. Strapping the Abhumans to stretchers with a gag, they marched through the byways of the forests, Cameoline cloaks and robes covering all but their Chest Armor. Meran stalked at the front of the line, over fifty paces ahead, whistling a bird cry to halt every so often. The Beastmen had become less of a nuisance every so often, and one had tried to communicate with the Colonel on the Sixth day they'd been camped. 'Swiftrunner' or so he claimed he was, said that the 'Lady' wished peace. They stopped attacking that day, and only occasionally they were glimpsed. But the Abhumans had become a ever present occurrence in the area. Hunting wildlife and travelling in wooden caravans, they were an object of interest to the Enginseer and newly-freed Psyker – Peltast had asked for the title of Librarian, literally, rather than in the Astartes sense. He would learn all he could of the world rather than wasting time fighting chaos in his mind.

Peltast had noted they kept to a wide pantheon of gods, much to the Priest's chagrin. They had almost come to blows about a course of action until the Colonel told them both to shut up and stay indoors for 24 hours. The Men had taken the disappearance of the Astronomicon with a sense of purposelessness. That was, until they had spotted the Abhumans. Now, Meran's squad was escorting two pieces of precious cargo to the Colonel personally. It was a dangerous duty due to their proximity to both the Werewolves' source, a ruin mentioned by Swiftrunner, and the Elves' camp. It was unknown if the Werewolves would take issue with them capturing two of the elves.

Vexilarius scanned his surroundings from a tree, seeing if anything was following or ahead of them. He spotted a small bit of movement to their front, and raised his scope. A group of humans, alongside a strange horned creature and a ratling on the fat side, were marching through the woods. One was particularly... interesting, to his male faculties. He did a long bird call, a signal of danger. He watched as his group noiselessly moved into observation positions. Wilux motioned for them to set the elves down. The group stopped and began to put their things down. The horned giant stood stoically after getting his things in order with military precision. The others slowly got their things in order and some started sleeping. The sun slowly began to slip out of view, casting the world in an orangish-red hue.

The fat ratling pulled out a tankard and shouted something about women and promptly chugged the entire thing in one go. One of the guardsmen, probably a newer fold-in from the long tour of the Regiment, made a tiny chuckle. The Giant turned in their direction, scanning their direction. Meran rose his rifle and prepared for the worst. The Sergeant approached the soldier and rapped him with the blunt edge of his sword. He let out a bird call, and we prepared to move. Meran jumped and fell a few feet, landing as noiselessly as possible... only something broke it's fall, making a massive shriek.

* * *

_The Party_

"Warden!" Shouted Sten, kicking her in the chest. Elissa Cousland was up in an instant, axes at the ready and scanning the darkness. She heard and felt the pull of darkspawn in her blood. "To arms! Darkspawn in the trees!"

But there was another something there, struggling with them. An instant flash of light and a massive crack came from the bushes where the struggle was taking place. Several others happened a second later. Eleven humans ran from the darkness, some limping, others firing, into the brush as a group of Darkspawn rushed out. Two humans, one with a large stick and the other with a sword and some strange-shaped axe in his other hand bellowed cries, swinging their weapons and letting off cracks from their ends with equal measure. Elissa heard cries of "For Lyra!" and "By the Emperor! Fight back these spawns of Chaos!"

A Cousland needed no further invitation. "CUT THEM APART!" She screamed, rushing into the fray in a berzerking frenzy. Oghren, roused from his stupor, looked at the insanity and let out a chuckle. "Stone! And I thought i'd seen everything." He said, letting out a roar and chopping a monster's head off. As quickly as it had began, it ended. The eleven new arrivals picked over their wounded, surprisingly unscathed despite the madness. Their leader sheathed his weapon and put down his hood. "Damn. Elius, is the Vox up and running?" He asked. Elissa finished bandaging a wound and looked up at the man, his scarred and tired face betraying his otherwise-confident voice.

"Yes, Sergeant!" Shouted the other man, shaking both in body and voice. He handed a black square attached to a cord to the scarred veteran. "Peltast, I need to speak to Rawlsing, right away." He said, paying no heed to the party. The one with the longer stick than the rest came over to her, his face covered in black and green makeup of some sort. Along with his cloak, he was almost invisible in the night. "I apologize for his business, Ma'am." He said, supporting himself with his rifle. A nasty gash along his leg was bandaged securely. "I take no offense. What's he doing?" She asked, looking curiously at the box.

"Oh, that's a communicator, it lets him talk to people a long distance away." Said the Sniper, raising his rifle and slinging it across his back. "As in... with Magic?" She asked, confused. A blonde man walked up next to her, a rather dumb look on his face. "Who are you people, anyways?" He asked, quizzically. The Sniper pointed to the number on his shoulderpad. "We're the last of the people of Lyra, a... Country far to the south. The Blonde man's jaw dropped. "It's so cold down there! By Andraste, it's cold here. How do you survive?" He asked, questioningly.

"Well, you see, we learned to use this thing called-" Meran began, only for the Sergeant to cut him off. "Sorry to interrupt your pleasant explanation, Sniper. Ma'am, I'm Sergeant Wilux, commander of this squad. Do you mind your people coming with us? We're in a part of the world we're unfamiliar with, and all these monsters make it more dangerous each day."

"Um... Allow me to converse with my companions on this matter." She said, motioning for the Blonde to follow. Meran returned to the place where the Elves were at, and saw two bloody trails leading into the woods. This did not bode well.

* * *

"They got gigantic flashy sticks! I want _me_ a giant flashy stick! I vote we follow 'em!" Said Oghren, blunt as always. "They certainly seem to have stories to tell." Said Leliana, looking misty-eyed at their Sergeant. Morrigan folded her arms and scoffed. "Some women can't look past sticks and stones, 'tis pitiful. I say we meet these people's leaders. If we're lucky they'll be powerful and we won't need the annoying dalish in our journey." Leliana gave Morrigan a stern look. Alistair raised an eyebrow. "We can't be certain they'll help us at all. And if they decide to dislike us, we could easily be just like the darkspawn. With _holes. in. our. HEADS._"

Sten walked over to them, having been distant from the group for a short while. "They are soldiers, not warriors like the rest of you. They follow orders and do things without question. If their commanders have a change of heart, Alistair will have been correct." He said. Zevran simply looked at the soldiers and looked back. "I agree with Leliana." He said, simply. Morrigan threw up her hands and somehow made a even scoffier scoff than had ever been scoffed before – atleast, according to Alistair at a later date. Elissa took a look at the men and turned back. "There is no guarantee the Dalish will help either. I believe we should follow them. Get ready to move." She said, marching off to the Sergeant.

"We'll follow you once we're packed. Make arrangements with your commander.

* * *

_The Camp, Daybreak_

Elissa looked at the massive, foreboding entrenchments as she walked through the wooden gateway. Soldiers stood smoking strange white sticks, and some gave her downtrod looks. It was they way most Imperials treated the men of Feudal Worlds, downtrodden and worthless as they were. The Colonel went down the ramparts, a large power sword dangling from his belt as he did so. In lieu of the camouflage he wore on landing, a more fanciful uniform with a Carapace chestpiece and a higher-tier tunic replaced the cameoline and other field gear. He strode up to the Sergeant with purpose, sticking out his hand and having it shook by the Sergeant. "Welcome back, Guardsman." He said, patting the man on the shoulder. "Break your men out for chow, your sniper support can get back to his wolfpack." He said. As the Guardsmen dismissed themselves to the various tents inside the wood-walled compound, Elissa was formally greeted by the Colonel. "Greetings to you, young lass." He said, letting off a gentle bow.

"I am Colonel Julius Rawlsing, Commander of the Emperor's 82nd Lyran Regiment. I implore your people to come with me, we've much to learn of our whereabouts." He said, pointing to a moderately sized wooden structure down a main avenue of tents. A flag bearing the Regiment's logo was affixed to the top. As they walked, Julius answered several questions. "So what're them big head-poppers your people carry with them, Colonel? Asked Oghren, giddy as he could ever be. "Those are Lasguns, they fire a stream of pure energy into a target using a battery, which stores that energy." He said, taking his laspistol out as an example. "Is it a form of Magic?" Asked Morrigan, perplexed. "Nay, 'Magic' is nonexistant, despite what many people of this land might believe." He said.

"Oh really?" Asked Morrigan. "Explain this." Morrigan's form shifted into that of a bird, and landed on the Colonel's shoulder. _By the Emperor..._

_

* * *

_

OMG CLIFFHANGERZZ!1!111!

I seriously wanted to throw in so much innuendo about them carrying huge metal sticks it would've made the chapter suck. So thank me for that. I'm considering several plotlines from here, tell me what you'd like to see in tha reviews.


End file.
